In
my life
I earned good
money,
as much as two thousand US dollars for a six hour day sometimes,
leading seminars for Fortune 1000 companies. I traveled literally
millions of miles, some of them by hitching rides on freighters, over
and around
Planet Earth
which I have circumnavigated completely. I lived for extended periods
in exotic locations like the heart of
the Amazon jungle
and the
Fiji Islands.
I've been married twice. I'm a resident of five countries and a citizen
of two. I've worked with computers since paper tape and punched cards
were de rigueur, first learning how between midnight and 4:00am
in the underground catacombs of Le Lido de Paris, a
high class
night _lub, home of Les Bluebelle Girls and arguably the most
famous
cabaret in the world. I was a pioneer surfer in the early '60s riding
long boards and body surfing at now well known but then secret dream
surfscapes like Cape St Francis, Seal Point, and
Jeffrey's Bay.
I was a radio DJ and a
skydiver.
As a member of a team I built a bridge to carry traffic over the Salt
River gorge near The Crags in
South Africa.
I played a bit part in "Fortune Dane", a B-grade Hollywood movie
starring Carl Weathers (Apollo Creed of the "Rocky" series) and Joe
Dallesandro (of Andy Warhol's "Heat" and others).
Yet when it comes to satisfaction, excitement, fulfillment, joy, and
the je ne sais quoi that gets me up, no,
drives me out of bed in the morning, nothing - and I mean
nothing - comes close to my
commitment
to my three children.
Standing in my
commitment
I looked into empty futures and began
inventing
one worth living into.
We needed a new place to stay, and we had exactly twenty one days to
find it. I invented the possibility of a beautiful home - not like some
place to go to on vacation but rather like a place where we would live
as if on vacation every day. A simple place. A natural place. A
peaceful
place. A healing place. A fun, inspiring, creative place to be. And I
set out to find it.
* * *
I walked the streets. I knocked on doors. I wrote down every suggestion
and every referral I received. I rose early and bought the local
classified newspapers, sitting in my car outside the 7-Eleven at dawn
reading what was available and taking notes, then calling the renters
on my cell phone requesting to come and see their offerings. And so it
went for five straight days, fourteen hours a day. But no match.
Nothing.
On the evening of the fifth day I needed a break. I took some time out
from househunting which was becoming frustrating having failed to yield
fruit. I decided instead to relax and shoot some pool with my son
Christian. One of my goals is to coach Christian to play pool to the
degree that he beats me. He's nearly there, having already mastered
rail shots and back spins.
While driving with Christian to the local Marriott where we play pool,
my cell phone rang. It was a realtor for whom I'd left a message five
days earlier when I first started looking for a home. She said she had
a great place for me. I noticed I had all kinds of judgements going on
about her not calling me back for five days. And I didn't like the part
of town she was describing. A voice in the back of my head said I
shouldn't waste my evening out with Christian going to see it. Another
voice was equally emphatic that I should. Almost against my own better
judgement, I agreed to go and see the place and, apologizing to
Christian and promising him that we would yet play pool later that
evening, I made a U-turn and followed the realtor's directions to who
knows what.
* * *
As we drew closer, I went into a kind of shock. We were in horse and
cattle country. This was way beyond what I had imagined! The road
meandered through paddocks edged with whitewashed paling fences. At the
top of the driveway we entered was the most perfect cottage I have ever
seen in my life. As if on cue, a huge golden full
moon
was rising, bathing the area in a celestial glow. On one side of the
cottage was a hundred acre horse ranch. Horses ambled over to the fence
to say hello to Christian and me. We fed them carrots. On another side
was a three hundred acre cow pasture. No less than two yards from
Christian and I, a herd of cows, bulls, and new born calves frolicked
and grazed. In my mind's eye, I already saw us in that meadow flicking
frisbees, tossing footballs, and flying kites once the cows had
vacated.
Down the hill and off to the right was a rushing river, babbling
audibly even from fifty yards away. We noticed ducks
swimming
lazily through its pools and eddies. There were no other signs or
noises of civilization. The property was festooned with oaks and had a
private vineyard. I had been in tears for about a half hour without
even noticing it, overwhelmed by the joy and relief of discovering this
paradise.
I realized I was standing speaking with the realtor and our soon to be
new landlord with tears streaming down my face. It didn't matter.
The cottage is fully furnished, has hundreds of channels on a large
satellite TV, a hot tub, telephone, and will soon have high speed DSL
internet access. There's a barbecue kettle and a private lawn and
garden where the children can plant and tend their own flowers. The all
inclusive rent seemed like it had one or two zeros too few on the end
when I first heard it. Christian and I had found our new home.
In the face of
commitment,
whatever is needed shows up.
